


Letters in the Attic

by shutupsolace



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Damn, Do I Ever Write Anything Else, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Fluff, Historical References, More Fluff, apparently not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2019-01-09 11:30:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12275538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shutupsolace/pseuds/shutupsolace
Summary: Amelia finds a box in the attic and upon going through it, finds some things she'd thought she'd lost.





	Letters in the Attic

**Author's Note:**

> that title sounds like the title to a trashy romance novel, with the big buff dudes and ladies in flowing dresses on the cover.

The attic was far messier than Amelia remembered. She bent low, picking up another box and heaving it onto the teetering pile. She grimaced, bringing her hand up to wipe away the sweat on her forehead. Looking around she saw what seemed like thousands of boxes. Reorganizing was her least favorite chore, other than grocery shopping. As a compromise, Alice was at the store. So here she was, stuck clearing out the attic, unpacking dusty old boxes and coughing up a lung in the process.

As she bent over again, Amelia accidentally knocked into the box behind her, sending it to the ground. She sighed, turning to scoop the items into her arms, when something caught her eye.

An old photograph had fluttered softly to the ground. Amelia picked it up, leaving an imprint on the dusty floor. It was an old picture of her and Alice from the 1970’s, decked out in bell bottoms and crop tops. She laughed softly.

“Oh man, look at my hair,” she muttered, sinking to the ground. Aside from her hair, she looked exactly the same. She pulled the box closer to rifle through the items inside.

She pulled out the first soft thing she touched, which turned out to be a small, stuffed teddy bear. Amelia recognized it as an original teddy bear, back when Morris Mitchtom first started making them in 1902. It had been a gift from her sister, Maddie. She put the bear in her lap, patting its head gently before continuing to root through the box.

Next, she pulled out a red, white, and blue Aeropostale t-shirt she thought she had lost back in 2009. It was the same shirt that she had worn on their 87th anniversary in 2008. Alice claimed to hate it, but here it was, hidden away in a box of her possessions. Amelia gasped in indignation.

“She stole it from me!” she said. ”Keeping my shirts now, are we? That’s pretty weird, babe,” she muttered, returning to the box.

Her hand hit against a hard edge, pressed into the bottom of the box. She peered in, removing a few old books to reveal a small wooden box. Handling it with care, Amelia gently placed it in her lap with the stuffed bear.

“What do you think it is, Teddy?” He offered no reply. Amelia shrugged, opening the lid. Inside appeared to be stacks and stacks of folded paper. Upon closer inspection, Amelia realized they were letters, all addressed to Alice.

“What the heck?” she said to herself. She opened a letter on the top pile and began to read aloud.

“My Dear Alice,

I’m writing to you from Paris today! I really think you’d like it here, though I’m sure you’d spend all your time muttering about “those bloody French”. Honestly, doll, you’ve gotta get over your beef with the French. For once, they’re fighting with the English, not against them. You’re just still bitter about the Revolutionary War, huh?

Speaking of the French, I saw Francine a few days ago. We had coffee and talked about how long this war has been going on. Francine is… well, she’s stressed. Everyone is. There’s a war, for heaven’s sake! The whole city is on edge with the threat of bombs hanging over them.

Despite this, Francine has retained her flirtatious nature. That girl would flirt with anything that breathes. It’s difficult to keep the boys off her, sometimes, the way she leads them on. She sends her love, and of course, some affectionate heckling. She misses you, really. Anyways, enough about Francine. What kind of person would I be if I wrote to my main gal about another girl?

How are you holding up? I know being an army nurse is taxing, but what you’re doing… it’s really admirable. You’re the real hero, Alice. I’m proud of you.

The situation over could be better. More and more people are getting taken away and blamed for things they can’t control. They’re suffering, Alice, it’s not their fault. They’re not cowards. I just wish there was a way I could prove it. Just between you and me, sometimes I want to blame them too, if only to make everything a little bit easier. I want to help them, I really do, but I don’t know how. Some hero, huh?

I joined the war to protect my country and save anyone that I could, but lately it’s been feeling a lot harder to do. It feels as though the Germans will never give up and that this war will go on forever. There are these terrible rumors going around. I don’t want to believe them, but they’re saying that Japanese-Americans are being relocated into camps back home, as punishment for Japan’s participation in the war. 

This isn’t what I fought for. We didn’t fight to be an independent country and bring freedom to our people just to treat them like garbage. 

That’s not all. There are rumors about the German concentration camps too. They’re saying it’s not just Jews who are being taken away. I’m not afraid though, and you shouldn’t be either. I’ll protect you.

The sun is setting here and it looks beautiful. Not nearly as beautiful as you always look, but it’s close. It sort of reminds me of this photo we took from before the war. We’re in front of that swanky restaurant (remember the one Matthew and Alfred had to pretend to be our dates just so we could get in.) and the sun was setting in the background, turning the sky into a beautiful mess of oranges and pinks. Even though the picture is in black and white, I can still remember the colours in my mind.

I bring it out sometimes when I’m feeling low. The boys always get jealous about a what a dreamboat I managed to snag, and the girls all coo over us like we’re a pair of kittens. (Marie wants to know where you got your dress, by the way. I would’ve told her, but we went through so many department stores before we found it, I had no idea which one it was.) 

The other pilots like to make jokes about the pair of us. An American and a Brit, the physical embodiment of the “special relationship” between the U.S. and Great Britain (if only they knew how right they were). They think Winston Churchill would approve.

If I keep writing, I’m going to spend all night reminiscing about the good ol’ days. I’m not going to lie to you. This next mission is dangerous, the worst one yet. We were told we might not make it back. We’re leaving Paris soon. I don’t want to think about it, but I have to, or else I’ll only think about our time spent together before all this started. Thoughts of our dates on the boardwalk, snow ball fights in the winter, our first kiss… they’re the only things getting me through this godforsaken war. I have to stop now or else I will never stop thinking, and you and I both know I don’t have time for that. We have to look forward, to the end of the war. To seeing each other again.

And I will see you again, Alice. I’m sure of it. We’ll have more dates on the boardwalk and kisses in the snow. Stay safe, my love. I’ll see you soon.

Your hero,

Amelia Jones.”

Amelia’s mouth dropped open, gazing at the different letters. These were all the letters she had written Alice over the past centuries. From when they first met in France at a party with Benjamin Franklin. And another after Amelia went Woodstock while Alice was in London. There must have been hundreds! Of course there would be since they have known each other for over five-hundred years. Did that mean that Alice had kept every letter she had written her?

Amelia felt her heart slowly melt, becoming a puddle of warm happiness. She gently set the letter and the box down before pulling the stuffed bear into a huge, well, bear hug. She squished him against her chest, cheeks a bright red.

“Awe!” she cooed into the bear. “Alice is...is the sweetest, more caring person I know. I love her so much!”

She sat for a bit, a goofy grin spreading across her face as she snuggled the bear. Distantly, she heard the front of door opening and closing.

“Amy?” called Alice’s voice. “I’m home. I brought hotdogs.”

Amelia stood quickly at the sound of her girlfriend’s voice. “Coming!” she called down the stairs. Quickly, she looked around for the old t-shirt she’d found earlier, swapping it out for the one she was wearing and skipped down the stairs. 

Alice was in the kitchen, placing the groceries she’d brought home on the counter.

“Hey,” she said, without turning around. “I picked up hotdogs for tonight and more ice cream, because I noticed someone has been eating it all while binge watching How To Get Away With Murder. Honestly, Amy, you really shouldn’t spend so much time on the computer-”

At this point, she turned around, noticed the t-shirt and matching grin that Amelia was sporting, and promptly blushed.

“Oh,” she said, after a moment of silence. “You found it.”

“Of course I did, you sentimental dork,” Amelia said, laughing, as she wrapped Alice in a hug, knocking her glasses askew. “I found a few other… things as well.”

“Oh really? What sort of ‘things’?” Alice queried, fixing her glasses.

“Oh, you know,” she replied, letting go of Alice in favor of leaning against the counter. “My old teddy bear, some photos, a box containing every letter I ever sent you…” She said the last part quickly, smiling mischievously.

Alice blushed harder. “Oh,” she said again. “Oh, yes, well you see-”

Amelia laughed, a loud, hearty laugh, pulling Alice into another bone crushing hug.

“You hopeless romantic! I knew you loved me.”

“Of course I love you, don’t be ridiculous,” Alice chided. “I just- well, you know I- ugh! I don’t have to explain myself to you,” she said to a still giggling Amelia.

“No, no, of course not,” Amelia replied with an exaggerated air.

Alice huffed. “Come on, let’s go make dinner. We can even watch Supergirl while we’re at it.”

“Yes!” Amelia cried, fist pumping the air. “You are the best girlfriend a girl could ask for.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Alice waved off the praise, rolling her eyes, but she smiled while doing it. “Let’s just get all these groceries put away, okay?”

“On it!” Amelia replied, saluting Alice before blowing her a kiss and winking.

Alice rolled her eyes, again, at Amelia’s antics and the day went on.

**Author's Note:**

> constructive criticism is always welcome, i appreciate it so much.  
> here's my [tumblr](https://astudyinfuckmylife.tumblr.com/) if you wanna come scream about these two lesbians.  
> and as always, thanks for reading.


End file.
